Warning: Contains drugs, death and drinking (But do read. It's not as bad as it sounds)
A wind strong enough to rip apart even the most faithful lovers and loving families howled past the little shaggy apartment with the force of seven thousand hated, in misery drenched souls. The house shook and groaned under its fury, trying to keep the cold air and bone chilling howls outside.
It sent Goosebumps up Dom's arms. She tightened her vest around herself as another blast of wind hit. Something landed in her lap. Dom looked up to see the wooden beam crack, the wood almost shattering.
"Are you almost done?" She asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice and most likely failing miserably.
"Just a moment."
The voice was accompanied by another gust of wind. Dom hastily jumped up as the beam above her head cracked further, saw dust raining down on her like snow on the first winter day.
"What's taking you so long?" Dom asked.
She wrapped her fingers around the door handle and opened the heavy door. On the other side was a pain hallway. The walls were adorned with a cloak of white paint and a big, beautiful mirror.
Dom blinked as she saw herself staring back. Long, reddish hair and big, blue eyes that used to leave all the boys tongue-tied, and clothes worn-out down to the wire over a skinny, freckled figure that seemed to be able to break at a single touch.
She looked away.
"I'll be done in a sec, honey." The voice said.
It came from the bathroom. Dom sighed. Of course it came from the bathroom.
Logan looked like absolute crap. He was staring into the mirror with the concentration of a brainwashed toddler, his fingers twitching notoriously. The beautifully shining hair she had fallen in love all those years ago, was dull and thin and hung in his eyes.
"Logan?" Dom asked in a whisper. He nodded, not looking away from him reflection in the cracked mirror.
"Come on. We're going to be late." She said, laying a hand on his arm. It felt as if it were aflame.
Logan turned to her and frowned down on her. "Where are we going?" He asked.
She took his hand-made rough by years and years of Quidditch and led him downstairs. If she had her back to him, she wouldn't have to look in those barbaric, beautiful, bloodshot eyes.
"The Times Squares are playing tonight. I got tickets, don't you remember?" Dom said.
Another burst of wind hit as they were descending the stairs, but now she was by Logan's side, the crying of the wind and the shaking of the building wasn't as ominous anymore. The chandelier rocked back and forth and one of the candles fell to the floor, making a burn on the carpet before the flame went out with a sis.
"I love you Dom." Logan whispered, only just audible enough for Dom to hear him. Dom turned to look at him, and though his clothes were ragged and his skin was as yellow as old parchment and the beauty he had once possessed had left him almost entirely, Dom knew she would never stop loving him in return. She stepped on the step he was standing on and kissed him. The word started to spin dangerously much for someone who was standing on tiptoes on the stairs in a shaking house, but just for now, it didn't matter.
He tasted like drugs and alcohol and coke and worse, and that was how it should be, because that was who he was and that was who she loved, and Dom would never want to replace him with anyone else.
She opened her eyes to look into his bloodshot ones and oddly, found herself laughing.
...
The loud music was still ringing in Dom's ears when she and Logan stumbled though the exit. The cold night air bit its way through their clothes.
"That," Do breathed. "Was amazing!" She laughed and covered her moth with her hands as she twirled around, almost bumping into the bulky security guard.
"I haven't had that much fun in ages."
Logan chuckled and pulled her closed, giving her a peck on the lips. "It's about to get even better." He said, slowly tracing his fingers through her hair. Dom shivered against him, revealing in his warmth. She burrowed her head into the crook of his neck. "Oh yeah?" She asked her shield against the hungry cold night air.
"How're you going to do that?"
"Quite simple." Logan said, lowering his voice and stepping back. Dom let out a disappointed puff of air as she felt his warmth leave her, but when she looked up and saw the mischievous smile on his lips, her disappointment and the cold were forgotten. Her whole body warmed up as she stood eye to eye with the boy he had once been.
He winked and pulled something out of his pocket.
Dom looked over her shoulder, but the guard was too busy doing nothing to pay them any attention, but just in case, she pulled Logan away from the lighted doorstep and into the shadows of the night.
She giggled as he pressed a kiss against her neck. "Do you think that'd suffice?"
"Maybe." Dom said. She snatched the bag from him. "But I roll. You suck."
"Yes, I do." Logan said and kissed her neck again. Dom's eyes flew open and she pushed herself away from Logan clasping the burning spot on her neck.
"You gave me a Hickey." She accused.
Logan wiped his mouth, the smile still in place. "I do what you said I do. I sucked."
Dom stuck her nose in the air as a plane flew over, filling the air with vibrating noise that over stemmed even the bouncing beat from the concert.
"You are impossible."
"I know." Logan sighed, looking at his hands. "Such perfection does seem to be impossible, doesn't it?"
Dom rolled her eyes and a few seconds later, propped the freshly rolled joint between her lips.
"You did brought a light this time, right?" She asked, probing him playfully. Logan nodded and pulled out his ancient Zippo, which must have been as old as the earth itself, by the looks of it.
Logan made the fire flicker into existence without the Zippo falling apart, a feat Dom was never sure of how he managed it, and candled the joint for her.
Dom inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar calm setting over her. She watched the little puffs of breath escape her mouth and climb upwards, trying to re-join their superiors high in the sky.
Somewhere in lying on a half empty parking lot, looking at the cloud covered stars and smoking some illegal house potted plant, Dom found perfection.
The smoke danced above her, playing with the light and with her vision until the world was spinning and her head with it, colours blending with colours, twisting things that weren't even there into big, wide monsters who only stared at her before morphing back into nothingness.
Logan stood up beside her.
"Do you want to meet someone famous?" He asked.
Dom stood up as well, and gripped his shoulder so she wouldn't fall.
"Depends. I'm not really in the mood for a family visit."
Logan took her hand and intertwined their fingers, pulling her back to the stadium. The bouncing music was still bouncing and the guard was still doing nothing, his sleeves pulled back to show off massive biceps.
Logan coughed. The guard looked at him, his muscles rippling.
"We would like to go back stage." Logan said. Dom covered her mouth with her hands at the ridiculousness of it, and tried to bite back her laughter.
"Do you have passes?" The guard asked, almost bored.
Something tugged at Dom's shirt and a moment later, the wind had the opportunity to bite and nibble at her naked flesh.
"Are those the passes you were asking for?" Logan asked.
Dom laughed as the cold tickled and twisted, but it couldn't harm her, because the hot sensation in her stomach caused by the single finger touching her back kept her warm and protected.
"I thought so." Logan said as he tugged the hem of the shirt back and walked past the guard, who looked remarkably much more like a brainless zombie than he had only moments before.
Dom skipped after Logan into the bouncing stadium.
...
Her pillow was peacefully moving up and down in its slumber as Dom burrowed further into it, but sleep still denied her. She absent-mindedly started trailing the deep ridges in her pillows stomach, illuminated by the moonlight.
There was something dying in her ears and her head was still loose and spinning somewhere far away, and when Dom tilted her head, it occurred to her that she had no idea how she got there. She did not remember crawling into bed, or going home at all, or much of the evening in general. It was all one black maze in which you could only take all the wrong turns and never find the exits, because that was just the way it was.
She blinked, and wondered what the hell she had done that night.
...
"We're all worried Dom." Were the first words her little brother said to her in half a year. Dom's eyes widened, the headache she had neutered the whole morning festered, and she slammed the door shut.
It sprang back open because Louis' perfect, dress shoe clad foot blocked it. He stepped inside with the ease of a thousand careless spoiled brats and looked around.
"I see." He said.
Dom ignored him and turned around, walked back to the kitchen and sat back behind the curtain of steam emanation from her cup of coffee. She stared into the cup as the milk and coffee were fighting for dominance, until she couldn't hold it any more.
She looked up, only to see that Louis sat across from her, studying her closely.
"What do you want?" She asked.
"I came to see how you were doing." He said. He looked around the little kitchen with something akin to disgust on his face. It reminded her of the time she and Louis had walked in on their parents when they were doing it. It was the exact same look.
"I'm doing fine." Dom said, taking a gulp of her coffee. It tasted burnt and sour.
Louis' hair blinded Dom when he shook his head and it reflected many coloured light rays.
"No, you're not." He said, taking her hands in his. "You can't be. Look at you, you look terrible."
Dom perched her lips and tried to pull her hands free, but Louis wouldn't let go of them.
"Why don't you just leave this Logan guy, Dom?" he spit out his name, biting on it like it was venomous. "He isn't good for you. Look around, is this the way you want to live?"
"Apparently, I do." Dom said. She finally succeeded in releasing her hands.
"With him?"
Dom picked up her cup again and swirled the liquid around, considering his question. The steamy curtain hung itself back up.
"He makes me smile. He makes me happy."
Louis rolled his eyes. "Of course he does." He murmured and flicked his hair out of his eyes in that perfect little way of him.
"That doesn't say a lot, considering that you are high half of the time, and either drunk or sleeping when you're not."
"Don't be such a baby." Dom said. "You know that isn't true. Besides, I'm not the one that inhaled a whole can of print duster once."
Louis smacked his hand on the wooden surface of the table, making the air tingle and ring with the sound of rotten wood cracking under too much force.
"I'm sure Creevey did that once."
Dom set the cup down on the table with enough force to shatter the crockery. "Don't talk about him like you know him." She said through gritted teeth.
"Or what?" Louis asked with laughter in his voice.
Dom stared at him and tightened her grip on the shattered cup, ignoring the splinters that were tearing open her fingers and palms. His musical laughter was still ringing through the room in a perfect pitch, reminding her of what she was to her family. The failure. Their laughingstock.
"I'm sorry." Louis said. "You're right. I don't know him; don't want to know him either. I'm just worried about you, and on how he effects and treats you." He gestured at her pale skin and thin clothes and around the house in general. "He isn't home, is he?"
Dom shook her head.
"And I doubt he went to work."
Dom felt he cheeks flush the crimson shade of anger. It was the same colour as the blood that was slowly sliding along the outside of the cup and dripping on the table.
"I take that as a no." Louis said. "Not very surprising. Never took his as a working man."
"Why are you here?" Dom hissed.
"To-"
"No." Dom said. "If you were here to see how I was doing, you would have gone after you asked. Sins you haven't, you can either tell me why the fuck you are still here, or leave. Either way, keep your opinion about the man I chose to be with to yourself."
"Why don't you just leave him? We all miss you."
Dom snorted. She imagined that the only one who missed the misfit that was Dominique Weasley, The middle child with the perfect brother and perfect sister and perfect parents, who's only perfection resonated in disaster, would be the one who was even more messed up than she was, but James was too busy trying to get his own life on track to miss her.
"If you have money issues, we'd all pinch in, and you could camp out at my place, or –"
"Did you tell mum?" Dom interrupted his endless gibber-jabber.
"What?" Louis asked. He jerked his head up, surprised that someone dared to interrupt his perfect words of wisdom, because how could anyone be so foolish?
"No, of course not."
Dom sighed. "Good." She stood up and wiped her bloodied hands on her shirt. "She doesn't have to know."
Louis remained seated like the stubborn little perfect creature he was and looked her straight in the eye. "I will tell if you don't come with me."
"Louis, if you tell mum, or dad for that matter a single thing, not only will you shatter the perfect illusion you four have developed about me, but you will also break mum's spirit. Do you want to be responsible for that?"
"I won't be." Louis said, crossing his arms. "You will be responsible."
"You," Dom said, laying a finger on his throat, "Are a bloody arse that doesn't know how to keep his nose in his own damned busyness."
Louis stood up, towering over her with his freakish, perfect height, and gripped her arms, probably to make sure she couldn't run out on him. Dom looked at his hands. They felt smooth, like silk. Nothing like the rough calluses on Logan's hands. His nails were so perfectly cut and cleaned, Dom suspected he had had a manicure some time past.
"Dom," Louis said. "Please stop seeing that cold-hearted bastard."
Dom shrugged his hands of and pointed at the door. "Get out, and tell Victoire that she doesn't have to come in two days to say the exact same things you just said." She said, shoving him in the direction of the door. "I'll send you the bill of the table you so graciously destroyed."
...
The moon had dominated the night sky for several hours when the drunken stumble of footsteps announced Logan's arrival. A second pair of lighter footsteps following closely, and for some reason, the image of The Brain, closely followed by his peasant Pinkie, plotting to take over the world appeared in Dom's eye of minds.
"Don't worry about it." Logan's voice could be heard clearly through the half open window, even on the first floor.
Dom lifted her head from her arms and made a grab for the bottle nearest to her.
It was still half full, but Dom drowned it in one gulp, throwing the now empty bottle to pieces against the wall.
"What if we get caught?" And unfamiliar, feminine voice said. Dom rolled her eyes at the faceless woman. She'd heard the song time and again.
"We won't." Logan said. The sound of keys entering the lock vibrated though the house, and a few seconds later, the slam of the door answered the vibration.
"You got everything?" Logan asked the woman. There was no answer, but Dom suspected the mouse of a woman was half nodding, half shaking under Logan's heavy gaze.
"You can go then."
The soft footsteps leading away from the apartment were even more timid than they had been when they had accompanied Logan. Dom fought the urge to go downstairs and demand what the hell he had done this time, because he had always done something and whether he told her what it was or not, it always lead to trouble.
Dom reached for the next bottle, an unopened one with a liquid the colour of poisonous blue inside of it. Dom slowly rotated it around in her hands, inspecting the etiquette, and that was how Logan found her, sitting on the floor with half smoking cigarette buds and half full bottles of alcohol surrounding her, wearing a shirt smeared with blood.
"Eventful day?" He asked, standing in the glass and leaning against the wall.
Dom twisted the cap off the bottle and set it against her mouth, letting the alcohol burn her insides and hat her up.
"You could say that." She said and dried her mouth with the back of her hand.
"What about you?" She loved the way that the moonlight reflected in his eyes and in the glass all around it. It looked like he was standing in a field of crystals and she was the only one privileged enough to see the wonder.
"You could say that." He answered, taking a step towards her, shattering the glass on which he stood in thousands more pieces, and taking one of the bottles that surrounded her.
Dom lifted her own in a silent toast before setting it back against her mouth and drowning her fears with it.
Logan imitated her a second later.
...
The first red messengers of the sun were already visible when Dom first started feeling tired. She looked around the room and her eyes landed on the unconscious body of Logan, who was twisting and turning on the wooden planks.
Dom stood up and walked over to him, waking over the chasm of broken glass. He rolled over and let out a soft moan of fear. Dom sat down and pulled his head in her lap, lacing her fingers though his hair as he started shaking like a five-year old visiting the doctor.
"It'll be okay." She whispered in his ear. She shivered and twisted gripping her hand in his sleep and clamping down on it. Dom hissed in pain, but did withdraw her hand. He needed the support in the mystery of sleep, and she was glad to give it.
He shivered again and Dom looked at the bed that was only a single foot away. She looked down on Logan and wondered if he would even notice when he had sunken this deep into sleepless nightmares.
As gentle as she could, Dom stood and pulled Logan up, letting him lean on her. He murmured something in his sleep and waved his hands around himself. He hit Dom square on the cheek. It stung like a bee had stung it. A very big bee indeed. Dom bit down on her lip and didn't betray a sound. She took a wonky step forward and steered Logan onto the bed, avoiding further contact with his hands.
When he finally lay on the bed, he was practically kicking around himself, so Dom covered him with a blanket and left to find her wand.
The clock had stopped a few days ago and the days and nights now blurred together within no rhythm and with no logic Dom could detect. Sometimes, light would be everlasting and it seemed to Dom that the sun would never say goodbye to dreary, rain burdened Britain, and other times, the day would flash by with the speed of light.
The roof of the apartment complex was cold and damp and suitable for no life forms except fungi. Dom watched at the clouds and the sun and the moon, and she could swear that she could see them all move in the same rhythm. A slow, yet steady pace, following the line that was cutting the heaven.
She leant back and lit another cigarette.
"What are you doing up here?" Logan asked, poking his head out of the open window. Dom smiled and beckoned him, inhaling the smoke that everyone said would be her death, like she was some animal to frighten and manipulate.
"Come and sit with me and watch the sun." She said.
Logan hesitated only a moment before he climbed out of the window, agile as ever.
"Why" He asked.
Dom patted the place next to her. "Come and watch the clouds with me. They are beautiful as ever." She said. Logan laughed and climbed over to her.
Instead of lying down next to her, he lay on top of her, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and replacing it with his hungry mouth. He kissed her like he hadn't in days, and maybe they hadn't Dom hadn't been keeping track of days lately. Not sins the clock broke down, and that could have been months ago, for all Dom knew.
"I…" Logan said, when he pulled back, "Have been meaning to do than sins I woke up."
Dom smiled and pulled him back, wanting to taste his lips for a bit longer. When he had just woken up, he didn't taste of ash and alcohol and drugs yet. He was almost clean. Pure.
"I love that you are the frisky one in our relationship." Logan said, pulling back.
Dom grinned and kissed his nose, before pushing him off herself. Logan laughed and rolled next to her, taking her hand in the process.
They watched the cotton clouds float by in the lake of the sky.
"Why were you looking for me?" Dom asked, breaking the silence in half.
"I wanted to visit my parents today. I was wondering if you would like to join me."
Dom squeezed his hand.
"Of course I will."
...
The flowers were the only thing of colour in the little graveyard, and even they looked wilted and lifeless. Dom took a hesitant step forward, but stopped at the gates. There was something wickedly wrong about this place, something that you could never hope to explain and you could only feel as something stabbing at your guts.
Logan opened the heavy gate and strode in, not affected by the heavy atmosphere in the slightest.
"Are you coming?" He called over his shoulder.
Dom trailed her fingers over the gate, postponing.
"Dom!" Logan said, more persistently.
Dom sighed and ran after him.
"You did bring booze, right?" Logan whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders and pressed her against herself.
"What do you take me for?" Dom asked, snaking her own arm around his waist. "Of course I did. I know you."
Logan chuckled, and it died away the moment his eyes landed on a black tombstone.
Dom sipped out of his grasp.
"Do you want to be alone?" She asked.
"No." Logan said. Dom took a small flask out of her pocket and set the thing to her mouth. "Let's start reviving then."
Logan laughed, but the strangled sound in his throat could have been a sob as well.
...
"You know." Logan said as the world started spinning. "Did I ever tell you how they died."
Dom giggled and grabbed his shirt so she wouldn't fall.
"What?" Logan asked.
Dom gasped for breath and pulled her legs up to her chest. "I don't know." She breathed, thumping her chest. "Something here is incredibly funny and not funny at all."
"We're sitting on them" Logan said, leaning back against the tombstone and rasped his knuckles along the side of it. Dom studied it.
"No, you didn't." She eventually said.
"You never told me how they died. I never asked."
Logan took out a cigarette. "Well, I never was a planned baby. My father, Dennis, had only graduated Hogwarts a few years, I think two, and was still trying to find a steady job. My mum…" He sighed and took his Zippo out of his ripped pocket of his ripped jeans. "She was finishing her last year at Hogwarts when she found out she was pregnant."
He lit his cigarette and took a puff. "I think it was quite a shock for both."
Dom mutely handed him the flask and he took it with a grateful nod.
"I don't think they were ready to be in a relationship, much less parents." He took a swig and wiped his mouth, his eyes troubled.
"When I was born, my mother got – what's it called?" He paused, taking anther swig at the flask. "Post-something depression."
Dom bit her lip, her eyes following the flickering light of the meta flask like a cat followed the red dot that appeared from time to time and always dominated it's thoughts. She knew the term, she knew what he meant, but in the haze that was her mind, the word became lost.
Logan waved his hand. "Whatever. You know what I mean, right?"
Dom nodded, and she crawled against Logan, resting her head on his chest.
"I was told she had been hospitalized for it, but that they had 'deemed her fit' to go back home. She committed suicide a week later." Logan trailed circles in her back and rested his head on hers, and she could hear the underlying accusation in his voice.
"My father didn't hold out long after that. He drank himself to death a month later."
Dom wrapped her hands around his neck. "That's awful." She said, pressing a kiss against him. "Who raised you? You've been living on your own for as long as I can remember."
Logan drowned the last of the content of the flask in one gulp, and picked up the bottle of Vodka Dom had brought with her.
"I've been living on my own for as long as I can remember." He said. He spat. "Look at us, talking about this deep shit. We shouldn't. We should celebrate that we're alive and here, and they are not."
Dom laughed and squeezed him closed to her. "I like lying here with you and getting drunk." She said. "We party all the time. This is special. Ours, and that is celebration enough for me."
"You know what we should do?" Logan asked as he pulled the cap off his Vodka bottle.
"No?" Dom said.
Logan took yet another gulp, determined to get drunk, and leaned closed to whisper in her ear. "We should do it, right here, just to piss them off."
Dom laughed. "I already told you once." She said, trailing a finger down the length of his stomach. "I don't do it in public. You should have gone for Roxanne if you're into that. I heard she has a thing for it."
"Oh, I know that." Logan said, winking.
"From experience, I bet." Dom said. "Never mind that she's, what? Six years younger than you."
Logan laughed, his belly under Dom's hand moving up and down. "Of course, I wouldn't trust someone else on their word, now, would I?"
"You do have a prominent trust issue."
"My grandparents' fault." Logan said as he took yet another wig at the bottle.
Dom pocked him in the belly and giggled as it bounced back like jelly.
"I do believe that you are drunk." She giggled, pocking his belly again.
"I do believe that you are right." Logan said, and he pressed a kiss on top of her head.
...
The street was grey and the heavens reflected them, a dull blanket of grey clouds covering the sky like it too had caught a cold in the winter winds. The old ramshackle house was doing as poor of a job holding out the cold, as the oven did at preserving ice-cream, and Dom sat huddled on the cough in front of the century-old black-and-white television with three blankets covering her when the doorbell rang.
Dom cursed as she stood up and pulled the blankets around herself. She stumbled to the door and lay a hand on the doorknob. It was so cold, she was afraid her hand would stick to it until the ends of time and beyond.
Thankfully it didn't, and she swing the door open.
"Ah, Finnegan." Dom said, stepping aside to clear the way. "I've been expecting you. Please, come in."
The mousey boy looked around, tightened his jacket around himself and stepped inside. Dom closed the door behind him, hoping it would block out the freezing cold, but it made no difference. The temperature in the hallway was old enough for you to freeze off your fingers and anything else hanging loose, no matter if the door was open or closed.
"You invited me, Dom." June said.
"That I did." Dom said, taking her own coat from the hangar and putting it on, letting the three blankets fall to the ground. "We," She said, pointing at him and herself. "Are going to a bar."
"With this weather?" June asked, looking out the window. "You have got to be kidding me."
The first few snowflakes landed on the ground, more were descending from the heavens, dancing gracefully on the wind, showing of their perfectly pure colour.
"We need something in our stomachs to warm us up." Dom said, opening the door and gesturing for him to get out.
"Why me?" June asked, shivering, putting on a brave face.
"There's nothing like drinking with a half-back Iris guy." Dom said, stepping out and locking the door hind her. The lock almost fell to the ground when she pulled the key out.
"I see you're as discriminate as always." June said.
Dom shook her head. "Why, because I defined you were iris? I'm sorry; I understand you want to keep it a secret. Merlin knows I would if I were."
June sighed, but said nothing.
...
The poorly lit bar was filled with half-shaven, gruff-looking men, all looking like they had stepped out of a b rated Mafia movie when Dom entered it with June. The warmth that drenched her was thick and fused with cigarette smoke and the stink of alcohol-sweat.
There wasn't a woman in sight.
"I told you this was a good bar." Dom said, going straight for the bar. June trailed behind her, watching the men with a wakeful eye, looking a bit like a scared guard hound who had a gun to him face and knew he could die any moment.
"Relax." Dom said as she sat down on one of the stools lining the bar. "It's safe. I come here all the time with Logan."
The tension in June's shoulders defused a bit, but he still looked ready to fight at a single sudden movement.
"What will it be tonight, Milady?" The barman asked. He was grinning and Dom saw he was missing two of his yellowed teeth. His pockmarked cheeks were bulged with spots and warts and worse like he was a fairy disguised as a warlock.
He was cleaning a filthy glass with an even filthier lap.
"Two ales, please." Dom said, giving the man a smile.
"Two ales, coming up." The man echoed, and he disappeared again into the thick, smoke-filled air.
"Or did you want something else?"
"No, an Ale is fine, thank you." June said, slipping out of his coat.
When the barman returned a few minutes later with their ales, Dom and June were engrossed by a discussion about who would come out of the football league on top that year by several scummy looking fellows a few stools down the bar and shouting their own thoughts from time to time.
"No, no." Dom shouted, gratefully accepting the pint of ale, gulping down about half of it, and slamming down the pint on the bar.
"You got it all backwards. Liverpool is going to be suffering defeats now because they've been growing overconfidence. It's their weakness. Chelsea is going to win from them. They already line second. I bet my mother's favourite ring they are going to win this year."
Her words were accompanied by a lot of 'yeahs' And 'what the hot bird said's'. Dom sat back in her stool, as the biggest, scummiest, drunkest fellow yelled something indistinguishable back at her.
"Did you catch that?" She asked June, who was gulping down his own Ale."
"Nope. Not a word." June said, wiping off his mouth. "Good Ale." He said appreciatively.
"Thank you." The barman said, appearing from thin air and disappearing immediately.
June's eyes widened and he turned to Dom, who laughed. "Don't worry about it. He has this talent that he hears every compliment about him and hears none of the complaints."
June smiled and raised his pint. "To Chelsea and the best Ale in the city." He said. Dom raised her pint with him and drowned the content of the pint in one gulp. Whoever said girls couldn't drink properly had never had the chance to become drinking buddies with Dom.
"Thank you." The barman said, reappearing and disappearing again.
"Can we have two more of these wonderful drinks?" Dom called after him.
...
Two big guys in suits that told Dom they came from money, big money, made their way through the crowd. "Fisherman." The left one called, leaning over the bar.
The barman shuffled over to them, a worried look on his face. Dom looked at them over the edge of her pint, taking a sip. June was peacefully snoring next to her, having passed out after doing his third strip tease. His shirt was still unbuttoned.
"What is it?" The barman asked, his voice harsh in fear.
The men moved into the light, and the horrid collection of colours in which they were clad made Dom convinced they came not from money, but from wizard money.
What were two high standing wizards doing in a shady little bar in a down town part of London, when they could be out there, doing actual, real things like the rest of the wizarding world, all trying to become the next Merlin or Dumbledore.
"We're looking for someone." The shadiest one of the two said, leaning closer to the barman and lowering his voice. "We heard he came here regularly."
Dom set down her pint and took out a cigarette. This could be interesting, or it could be something boring and important like politics or economics or a dead minister of magic.
The bartender looked around, and Dom pretended she was busy lighting her cigarette.
"Who?" The bartender asked, his eyes still flicking around the room.
"Logan Creevey." The other man said. His voice was surprisingly deep.
Dom looked up, taking a puff of her cigarette. She met the dark eyes of the bartender as he scratched his beard. "Logan Creevey?" He asked. "I might have heard of him sometime." He said, a question in his eyes.
Dom shook her head ever so slightly, taking another puff.
"Of course, you would get a reward for such information, and for keeping this little meeting a secret." The first man said. He reached inside of his pocket and took out a generous amount of green friends.
The barman watched the money with big eyes that gleaming in the faint light of the half-broken lamps hanging above the bar in the vain hope to make the bar look less scummy and crooked.
He reached for the money, looking like a crow seeing gold for the first time in his life. The man put the money back in his pocket before the barman could take it.
"But if you can't help me…" The man trailed off. The barman's eyes became troubled. He looked from one man to the other, then looked at Dom, who was smoking silently and not even pretending she wasn't listening any more.
"I can." The barman said. Weak man. He had the backbone of a fluffy, dolled-up, super hero's sidekick.
The green friends climbed their way back up the bar.
" I'm listening." The deep-voiced man said.
"He comes here every Saturday, and sometimes on Tuesday as well. I don't know anything else." The barman said, reaching over for the money.
The first man pressed it into his hand. "Thank you Fisherman. We won't forget this." The man with the ridiculous deep voice said, and they turned around and strolled out of the bar with their chin held high and their chest puffed out like they owned the world.
Dom reached behind the bar and took two of the bottles standing there, just standing there ready to be taking. She slammed her money on the table, woke June by pushing him off his stool and stamping out of the bar, June following her a few seconds later.
The street light outside had been completely destroyed by the end of the night.
...
Her shouts rang through the hallway, making the glass quiver and the water move. The vase with flowers on a simple dresser fell to the ground as Dom slammed the door behind her with enough force to make the glass crack. She ran upstairs.
"Logan?"
The bedroom was empty, only a simple impression in the bed betraying that someone had been there not too long ago. He wasn't there, nor was he in any of the other freezing rooms.
She ran back downstairs, hoping to find one of his notes on the kitchen table, saying he was out, but there wasn't anything there but the circles glasses had made in the wood and scratches Dom had scratched when she had gotten bored.
Dom climbed on the table and sat fingered over the engraving Logan had made there. It was a little heart that reminded her of the better times at Hogwarts, when Logan and she still resided at the top of their spiral.
...
The wind that penetrated the house through the kitchen window was strong enough to sweep Dom off the table and onto the ground and Dom was scared that if it did, she would burst into a thousand shattered pieces of glass. Her skin felt frozen and it distracted her from her thoughts like piercing your ears with a unicorns horn distracted you from a broken arm.
Something pressed down on her chest and it became increasingly difficult to suck the ice cold air inside her lungs. Her thoughts were pressing down on her, doubts twirling through her mind. She wondered what she would do with herself if Logan were to go, regardless of the reason.
She'd never asked what he did when he went away, she had been afraid of what he would tell her and what that truth would do to her, because some things were best left unsaid. He had never let her get close enough to lay his cards on the table, and she had never wanted him to.
"Dom." Someone said as Dom's arm melted. Dom looked up into Logan's eyes and let out a little cry of surprise and happiness. "You're here." She said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing him close.
"Merlin, Dom. You're freezing." Logan said, putting his hands on her bare shoulders and gently pushing her away. Her shoulders melted as well under his warm touch.
"Logan, we have to go." Dom said, climbing off the table.
"We have to leave. They're going to get you, I heard them talking and they are going to get you." She felt tears stinging her eyes and on the table, her bottle of wine that was almost completely deprived of liquid by now, fell to the ground.
"Dom, you're not making any sense right now." Logan said slowly. He took of his jacket and wrapped it around her. His warmth and smell surrounded her, making her head spin faster and her belly feel fluttery, like there were tiny leprechauns living there who were now dancing the tango.
"We have to leave." Dom said, the tears leaking from her eyes. "They can't take you away from me. I need you. We have to leave before they get here." Dom muttered, clutching his hands.
He stroked her hair pressed her against himself. "Calm down Dom. I'm not going anywhere." He said. "Don't worry. You're just drunk."
Dom shook her head and whipped her tears away. "We have to leave." She muttered again.
Tears kept streaming over her face.
...
Dom looked at the unfamiliar girl staring back at her from the water in the sink. The mirror had been destroyed some weeks before in a way Dom couldn't recall. The girl was thin, ever so thin, with big blue eyes and pupils that had no right to be so big.
Ever so big.
Her freckles seemed to be painted on her skin and floating over the lines of her face.
Dom touched the water and the ripples made the face shift and twist, but eventually, the ripples disappeared and the face became still once more.
The longer Dom stared, the more she became convinced that couldn't be her. She was nothing like the girl in the sink. She didn't have such red hair, or such a pale skin. Never had.
Two arms wrapped themselves around her belly and Logan kissed the crook of her neck.
"About yesterday." Dom started.
"It was nothing." Logan said. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. I think you had a nightmare or something to make you act…"
"No." Dom interrupted him. "It wasn't nothing. I do want to leave Logan. I don't know what the hell you do when you are out, and truthfully, I don't want to know, but I don't want to lose you because of that."
"You are afraid I'll leave?" Logan asked, letting go of her.
Dom shook her head. "I'm afraid someone will take you away and I won't be able to stop them. Logan, we're wasting out life here, but that doesn't mean life passes us by without taking notice."
"Dom, I promise you that it's fine, all right. You don't have to worry, I can handle it." Logan said, turning her around.
Dom nodded. She wanted to believe his words, she really did, but she knew this world and its hidden filth good enough to know that not everything could be promised. You didn't have control over everything.
"I still think we should go." Dom said, pushing away from him and reaching over for her toothbrush.
"We should stay." Logan said. "We have our life here. It might be a waste, but if I waste it together with you, I don't really care that it is."
Dom smiled and the smile looked like the smile a clown who was terrified of the dentist would give, when he had to perform at the stag party of a dentist.
"I won't mention it again." Dom whispered.
..
The newly repaired clock stopped at the same time Logan lifted the pill to his lips. The world stopped the moment he popped the little red thing into his mouth, winking at Dom who was watching him as the world stopped spinning, sipping a beat. It was the third one of the skittles like things he took that night.
"Want another one too?" He asked, holding out his palm. Seven pills in the colours of the rainbow lay on it, twinkling with light of their own.
"No thanks." Dom said. "Don't want to overdo it tonight. I had the worst headache this morning."
Logan grinned and popped another pill in his mouth. A green one this time. A pill like the poisoned apple snow-white ate when she was living with seven dwarfs.
"Maybe you should slow down." Dom said. Logan washed the two pills down with cognac, the liqueur stinging Dom's nose.
" I'm fine." He said. He slapped his belly. "I can handle a little bit more than you."
Dom saw herself reflected in his eyes and agreed. She was so thin, it looked like she would break if she fell over, her skin rip at a single touch and her eyes shatter out of pure misery.
That would probably happen one of these days, when she and Logan finally hit the ground at the end of their ride on the down wards spiralling slide, but she wouldn't break. She trusted Logan to catch her in time.
"Is it me, or is it finally heating up in here?" Logan asked.
Dom shrugged. "I don't feel any difference."
The window was still frostbitten and her legs were still too cold for her to feel anything in them.
"Must be me then." Logan said.
"Must be." Dom echoed.
...
Somewhere in the city, blue and red lights lit the sides of the streets in the name of justice as a police wagon, pouncing like a blue and red and white horse, raced past like it was tailing Cerberus himself. People were looking after it as the sirens woke them out of their winter sleeps and they stepped outside to see what the commotion was about.
Dom bowed over the pale shadow of Logan. He was breathing shallowly, his chest heaving up and down in quick succession. His body was white and blue and red, the colours of liberality, of justice and of their country, and It scared Dom more than her scariest nightmare had.
"Logan." She whispered, slapping his already red cheeks. "Logan."
Something landed on his cheek. Dom stopped and blinked. Another tear landed on his cheek and slowly slid off it, landing in his hair.
His whole body was shaking and his eyes were moving restlessly behind closed lids, but the most disturbing thing was how cold he felt. His hands were clam and his forehead felt like ice. Every part of him was cooling down at an alarming rate like he had been bewitched by a wrathful ice queen.
Dom let out a sob and clutched his body against her. He had fallen so slowly, blinking stupidly around himself like he couldn't quite believe what was happening, but fallen none the less.
"You said you wouldn't leave me, you…"
She didn't have the heart to curse him.
"Please, don't leave me."
The paramedics arrived a few seconds later, but Dom didn't see them. All she saw were the images in her mind of Logan and their journey to madness they had taken together.
"Let go of her child." Someone said from far away, but Dom couldn't let go. Didn't they realise that she would drift away from this world if she let go of the one thing tying her to this place? She couldn't let go.
Not of him.
Not ever.
...
As the corner where Dom crouched day and night, always clutching a bottle of some sorts, became darker than the blackest black, her mind turned to the foggy thoughts of rain and depression and she slid further and further down the path of solitude and night.
The one thing, Dom decided as she lifted her third bottle of the night to her lips, that would always keep her from breaking free of these misery forced chains, was the uncertainty circling Logan's death.
The chains that kept her from taking revenge on the two scummy man was that all the proof pointed to an overdose, and whether he died or was killed, it had been to Dom to prevent it, and she had failed.
And she couldn't blame another damned, sorrow filled soul.
AN:
Thank you for reading my Oneshot. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review, I'd really like to know what you think.